


Baby, you can sleep while I dream

by astano



Series: Baby, you can sleep while I dream [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-04 07:12:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astano/pseuds/astano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's just being a good friend, is all. The last thing she ever expects is to end up caring for the kid—and his mom, which is about a hundred times more worrying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Lucas Berry has the lung capacity of a fully grown man, Santana decides. She can hear Rachel shushing him through the curtains that separate their rooms. She’d taken Kurt’s old space when he moved out to live with Blaine, and the setup hasn’t changed that much in the last couple of months.

It means, of course, that there’s really not all that much privacy, and every time Lucas screams, both of them are woken up.

She can hear the slight strain in Rachel’s voice as she tries to calm him down. He’s been up every hour tonight and it must be finally getting to Rachel.

It’s hard enough on a day-to-day basis, what with Brody bailing as soon as he found out about the pregnancy. Rachel could have made him pay, but he was demanding a paternity test, and she told Santana she just wanted him out of her life. If he was so terrible to her, how could she ever think he’d be a good father to Lucas?

But that's left Rachel coping almost entirely on her own. She won’t ask for help from Santana, even though Santana would offer—even if it is just to watch him for half an hour so Rachel can have a bath in peace.

After another ten minutes of Lucas screaming, Santana can hear the increasing hysteria in Rachel’s voice, and knows she’s got to do something. She pushes her sheets away and grabs an old pair of sweats lying on the floor beside her bed, pulling them on before making her way through to Rachel’s room.

“Hey,” she says. Rachel looks like she’s about to burst into tears right along with Lucas, and Santana walks a little more cautiously into the room, because she’s not really sure she can deal with both of them crying at once.

“Do you want...” she trails off when Rachel just seems to be looking at her helplessly, and decides that actions are better than words right now. Reaching her arms out, Santana gets hold of Lucas, cradling him to her body, making sure to hold the back of his head secure against her shoulder, because she remembers reading that babies can’t support their own weight, so it was important to do it for them.

“I—I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” Rachel says. “He just—he won’t _stop_ , and I’ve tried everything.”

“It’s okay,” Santana says, bouncing a little on her feet as she tries to rock Lucas to quiet. “Why don’t you get back into bed, and I’ll take him through to my room for a little while.”

Rachel looks like she wants to protest, but exhaustion must win out, because she eventually just nods and murmurs, “Thank you.”

It takes another few minutes of constant rocking, but Lucas quietens down. Santana thinks about going back through to Rachel’s room and putting him back down to bed, but she’s almost certain he’s going to start crying again the minute she lets go of him, and Rachel _really_ looked like she needed a break.

Struggling a little with holding him in one arm while maneuvering bedsheets with the other, she curses quietly, before remembering that, shit, she’s holding a kid in her arms, and while he probably doesn’t understand a word she’s saying at the moment, she should probably start learning to curb her constant swearing before he starts to talk.

Eventually, she manages to slide into bed, and props herself up into a half-sitting position with her pillows, before settling Lucas on her chest. She doesn’t think she’ll go back to sleep like this, she’s not even sure she’d dare, just in case Lucas rolls off her, which, well he can’t really roll at all, yet, but the thought still worries her. Even so, she closes her eyes and relaxes back, enjoying the quietness of the apartment and the warm feeling of Lucas snuggled against her body.

~

When she opens her eyes again, she’s startled to see Rachel standing a few feet away, looking at her with a soft smile on her face.

“Sorry,” Rachel says quietly, as soon as she sees Santana’s awake, and Santana notices her cheeks are a little red, probably because she got caught staring at them. “It’s just—you looked kind of cute.”

Santana glares at her, because no, she does not do cute, and if it wasn’t for the kid still asleep on her chest, she’d show Rachel just how not cute she is.

Rachel doesn’t seem to notice Santana’s glare, or at the very least, she chooses to ignore it. “He’s probably going to need feeding soon,” she says.

“Oh, um. Do you want to take him?”

“Do you mind if I just wait here until he wakes up?”

Santana shakes her head and Rachel comes to sit on the bed beside her. She relaxes back against the pillows with a sigh and Santana figures even the few hours of uninterrupted sleep she got last night weren’t anywhere near enough.

“Thank you,” Rachel says after a few seconds of quiet. She looks at Santana quickly from the corner of her eye before refocusing on the bedspread. “I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t taken him. I couldn’t—”

“It’s okay,” Santana says, reaching out to squeeze Rachel’s arm. “Really. You shouldn’t have to do this alone.”

“But—I got myself into this. You shouldn’t have to—” Rachel shakes her head in frustration.

“Hey. It’s okay. I like him. And you’re my friend. And I _want_ to help, okay?” Santana realises the words are true the moment she speaks them. She really does want to help. She looks down at Lucas, still asleep on her chest and squeezes her arms around him a little tighter.

“Okay,” Rachel says after a second. “But I still need to say thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” 

Santana looks up to see Rachel’s smiling at them again. “You really _do_ look cute,” she says.

Santana rolls her eyes. “Take that back or he’s all yours again.”

“Never.”

~

It’s easy to fall into routines, and after a couple of weeks of getting up every other night with Lucas, Santana doesn’t really remember anything different. Rachel still has to get up once every night to feed him, but other than that, manages to sleep through most of the nights Santana takes without almost any interruption.

Of course, he still wakes them both up when he starts to scream, but except for when he’s being exceptionally difficult, he usually quiets down as soon as Santana picks him up and starts rocking him, and she knows there’s a big difference for Rachel between waking up and having to get out of bed, and waking up and knowing Santana’s got it.

She kind of really likes that Rachel knows she can be relied upon.

~

He’s not really crying today. Just making these little noises of discontentment every time Rachel tries to put him in his bouncer for his afternoon nap.

Santana knows sometimes when he’s being difficult, Rachel takes him for a walk around the block in his stroller, and he’s usually asleep by the time she gets back. Today, though, Rachel’s got a fuck load of work to do—she can’t afford to put him in daycare full time, so he’s just there when she’s got a class and the rest of the time, she copes as well as she can.

“I could take him for a walk if you want,” Santana says after the third time Rachel’s tried to put him down. It’s her day off, so she’s got absolutely nothing to do, well, except for the laundry she’s been putting off for a good week, and that can wait some more.

Rachel raises her eyebrows.

“C’mon. It’s not like I mind. And, I mean, I’m pretty sure a cute kid is a great way to meet people. He can be my wingman at the park.”

Rachel looks kind of scandalised and Santana tries to feel sorry for all of a second before she starts laughing at Rachel’s expression.

“You are _not_ using my son as a means to meet women. It’s—it’s—just _no_ , Santana.”

“If I promise to keep it in my pants?” It’s not like she would really do anything like that, but Rachel’s too easy to rile up sometimes, and she’s got to get her fun somewhere.

“Make sure he’s wrapped up,” Rachel says with a huff of resignation when she realises Santana’s teasing her. “It’s cold out. There’s the green—”

“Snowsuit by the door. I know.” She resists the urge to roll her eyes at Rachel’s overprotectiveness and grabs Lucas’s coat. She holds her arms out for him and Rachel hands him over.

“Let’s get you all bundled up,” she says, bouncing him a little in the air before sitting down and holding him on one knee. Lucas gurgles in response and Santana’s pretty sure there’s a smile as well. The baby books say that at two months, he’s probably more likely to just be mimicking rather than smiling at anything, but Santana thinks maybe he’s just maturing quicker than the average baby.

~

She may have only been joking, but the woman approaching her with a gigantic smile is the third in half an hour. Seriously, what is it with women and other people’s kids? It’s like they’re communal property.

“Oh,” the woman says, bending down in front of Lucas’s stroller and waving her fingers. “Your son’s adorable.”

And that’s the other thing. “Thank you,” Santana says, because she does have some manners, sometimes. “He’s not mine, though. He’s—” She doesn’t really know what to call him, because ‘he’s my friend’s son’ doesn’t really cover it, neither does ‘I’m just looking after him’ even though that’s all he really is to her and that’s all she’s doing.

The woman looks at her expectantly for a second, but then Lucas coos and reaches out a hand and she’s back to looking stupidly at him. “Bye bye,” she says, after a second, and Lucas moves his hand some more. It kind of looks like he’s waving goodbye, and Santana can’t help but smile. He really is adorable.

~

By the time she’s walked to the park a few blocks away, Lucas is, as predicted, fast asleep. She decides to walk around for a little while, it’s not too cold, and she’s sure Rachel could use the peace and quiet. 

After an hour or so, she heads back, and finds Rachel on the sofa, surrounded by notes for one of her theory classes. She looks up when Santana comes through the door and mouths _thank you_. Santana smiles and nods her head.

She leaves Lucas in his stroller, because it’s silly to risk disturbing him—they’d learnt that one the hard way—and makes a space for herself on the couch.

“People kept thinking he was mine,” she says quietly.

Rachel looks at her for a second, then over at Lucas. “He kind of smiles like you, sometimes anyway,” she says.

It’s a ridiculous thing for Rachel to say, and the immediate tight feeling in Santana’s chest is completely the result of her recent bout of exercise, and absolutely nothing else. It takes her a second to make her voice work, but, “Toothless and hideous,” she says. “Thanks. Really.”

~

Santana’s at work when Rachel calls. She’s not supposed to have her phone with her, but her manager’s really good about the fact she’s down as an emergency contact for Lucas while he’s at daycare, just in case they can’t get hold of Rachel for any reason.

She doesn’t even have time to say hello before Rachel screams down the line.

“He started talking!” She says, and Santana can hear the excitement in her voice. “He said—well I think it was either ‘car’ or ‘cat’, I don’t know. But he spoke, Santana!” The line goes slightly muffled for a second, then she can hear Rachel faintly speaking to Lucas. “Say it again, Lucas. C’mon, for Santana.”

Santana grins. Okay, so she knows at barely four months old, he probably wasn’t actually _saying_ anything, but still.

~

When she gets home that evening, Lucas is babbling away to himself, almost like now he’s found out how to form words, he doesn’t want to stop. They’re really only noises, _baba_ and _gaga_ , but he looks so happy and pleased with himself.

“Hey, Lucas,” she says, bending down to pick him up. He giggles at her and she grins back. “Have you been talking Mommy’s ear off?”

“Mama,” he says.

Rachel squeaks from behind her and Santana turns, pointing at Rachel and repeating him. He’s still watching her, though, when he says it again, and even though Santana _knows_ he’s not actually associating any one person with the word, there’s a small part of her that wouldn’t mind at all if she were Mama to Rachel’s Mommy.

The thought shocks her enough that she settles Lucas back on the sofa almost immediately.

“I’m gonna grab a shower,” she says. “Some idiot at work today spilled coffee everywhere and I’m sure I’m still covered in it.”

Rachel just says, “Okay,” and Santana doesn’t breathe properly again until she’s in the bathroom, alone behind the only goddamn door in this apartment.

“Fuck,” she whispers, leaning her head back against the door and banging it lightly against the wood. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”


	2. Chapter 2

Nothing really changes. At least not outwardly. It’s just that Santana becomes far more aware of everything she’s been doing.

Like, somewhere along the way, she’s stopped correcting people when they assume Lucas is her son. Sometimes she tells him _I love you_ when she’s putting him to bed on an evening. Sometimes she tells him just because she does.

She catches herself staring at Rachel, too. Quite a lot, really, and it’s hard to believe she never noticed before. There are times when Rachel looks up from whatever she’s doing and sees Santana looking at her. Usually she just smiles and goes back to her work, or the TV, or whatever. She’s got to know, Santana thinks. How can she not?

~

Despite everything, Santana tries not to delude herself. Even if Rachel knows how Santana feels, she can’t feel the same. If she did, she’d have said something already, wouldn’t she?

Sometimes, though, it’s really hard to not think there’s something there. Especially when Rachel does things like remember to pick up her favourite coffee, or make breakfast for her when she’s running late for work, or lets Santana steal her NYADA hoodie without putting up much of a fight—and Santana’s sure that every time she wears it, Rachel looks at her like she enjoys seeing her in it.

On the first really warm day of the year, when they’re lying on a blanket in the park, Lucas rolling about between them, it’s hard to believe they’re not like every other couple dotted around the grass.

It’s hard not to believe that at any time.

~

The first time they both go out somewhere together without Lucas, he’s six months old.

Kurt’s offered to babysit before, of course, but something’s always come up at the last minute, usually involving Lucas throwing up his dinner all over Santana’s favourite dress, or he’s running a fever, or one time, Kurt was ill and Rachel didn’t want to risk him passing it on to Lucas.

This time, though, they’ve managed to leave the house, and Santana’s booked a table for them at a restaurant a few blocks away, and they’re going to have a nice meal and a conversation about something _not_ related to babies.

Santana keeps telling herself it’s not a date. And it’s really not. But when they get to the restaurant, she holds open the door for Rachel—second nature now, because it’s _hard_ to open a door when you’re pushing around a baby—and Rachel gives her this funny look, like she’s pleased or something. Santana feels her cheeks heat up, so she ducks her head so Rachel can’t see and follows her inside.

~

Of course they talk about Lucas. But not until the check comes and Rachel reaches for it and says, “Let me.” Santana’s eyebrows go up, because she knows Rachel doesn’t have a whole lot of spare cash, but Rachel just pulls out her card before Santana can actually say anything. “I don’t think I tell you enough how much I appreciate everything you’re doing for us,” she says. “So, just—let me do this, okay?”

Santana drops her gaze, stares at a spot on the tablecloth, and bites down on the urge to say she doesn’t _want_ Rachel to think she has to do this. She doesn’t want to be treated like her actions have to be paid off in some way. Like she’s just a babysitter. Like Lucas and Rachel don’t mean anything at all to her.

~

The apartment is quiet when they get home, and Kurt’s watching TV, the volume on low.

“Was he okay for you?” Rachel asks.

Santana spares a glance at Kurt, but doesn’t wait for his response before she sneaks quietly through to Rachel’s room to check on Lucas. She kind of just needs to see him—needs the feeling she gets when she looks at him, the one that settles in her chest and reminds her that she’s _not_ just another person in his life, she’s more than that. The one that reminds her she’s in so much trouble.

He’s sleeping quietly—for once—so Santana just presses a kiss to her fingers and touches his cheek. She’s still standing there a few minutes later when Rachel wanders through.

“Kurt’s gone,” she whispers. “Lucas was an angel for him, of course.”

Santana stifles a laugh, because the last thing they need is to wake him up now. “Of course, he was.”

~

Kurt babysits for them more often after that. Sometimes they go out with Rachel’s friends from NYADA, sometimes with Santana’s friends from work, but more often than not, it’s just the two of them, and Santana finds it more and more difficult to convince herself that they’re _not_ on a date.

Still.

~

“Would you mind watching Lucas for me tomorrow evening?” Rachel looks hesitant, which is ridiculous, because Santana’s not going to say no. She’s actually not sure she’s capable of saying no to Rachel about anything important.

“You know you don’t have to ask,” she says. “Late class?”

“Um, no.” Santana feels something inexplicably twist up inside her chest at the way Rachel’s looking anywhere but at her. “I’ve got a date.”

“Oh.” And there it is. She’s pretty sure her face stays completely blank, even though she feels like she’s just been hit by a truck—one carrying a fuckload of reality. “Yeah. It’s fine—no problem.”

Rachel looks relieved and Santana thinks she might just throw up. “I know you don’t normally mind, but I just didn’t want you to think you were being taken advantage of so I could go out and have fun. But thank you so much!”

~

Rachel looks good. Really good. She twirls around for the two of them before she leaves. Lucas giggles and Santana tries to not hate the fact that Rachel’s dressed like this for someone that’s not her.

“Not hideous,” she manages, and Rachel mock-glares at her until she forces a smile and gives her a nod of approval.

~

She lasts all of five minutes after she’s put Lucas down before wishing she could be getting drunk.

She calls Kurt instead.

~

He’s not even taken his coat off before she’s breaking down.

“Oh, sweetie,” he says, pulling her into a hug, and the tears just come out harder.

“I’m so stupid,” she mumbles against his shoulder. “So stupid. I thought—”

Kurt steers them towards the sofa and eases them down. “What’s this about?” He asks.

“She’s—she’s on a date. And I’m—I’m just a _babysitter_ , Kurt. She doesn’t even—”

Kurt looks confused for the ten seconds it takes him to put things together, then, “Oh, Santana. You...”

“I think I love her.”

He just hugs her tighter and lets her cry.

~

“What are you gonna do?” He asks, later, when she’s just about cried herself out.

He looks so sorry for her, and she kind of wants to tell him to just _stop it_. She’s only got herself to blame for getting into this ridiculous situation in the first place, and she really doesn’t want such an outward display of sympathy, even if she did call him over.

“What can I do?” She says helplessly. “They’re my family, Kurt. I can’t— _fuck_.” She squeezes the cushion she’s holding tight to her chest. “We’ve been so much like a family, and I just, I started to believe it. I love both of them, and—it’s not _real_ , is it? None of it’s real.”

There’s not much Kurt can say, really, but it almost feels like relief to have someone else know, to be able to speak the words out loud that she’s been denying in her mind for so long.

He stays until Rachel gets back, and they watch some inane comedy on TV that she can’t even force a smile at, but with him there, she feels at least one percent less awful about the fucking _glow_ surrounding Rachel when she walks through the door.

~

It’s two weeks and three dates later that Santana realises she can’t take it anymore. If she wants to keep her sanity, she’s going to have to find a place of her own.

By the time Rachel’s back, Santana’s got three viewings arranged for the next day.

She doesn’t tell Rachel—no reason to ruin her blindingly obvious good mood just yet.


	3. Chapter 3

Her apartment is pretty shitty. But it’s got walls and a bed and a shower that works at least half the time, and that’s about all Santana needs. She can’t afford much more because she’s still paying half the rent on Rachel’s place—she couldn’t just up and leave, knowing Rachel wouldn’t be able to pay the whole amount, so until she finds someone else to share with, Santana’s going to keep paying.

Every time she thinks about it, she doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry, because if that doesn’t sound just like a divorce... Only it’s _not_. And Rachel doesn’t even know the real reason she moved out.

~

Her first night there is so quiet. Even though Lucas has been sleeping through the night for a while now, there were always the sounds of him shuffling around his crib. And then there was Rachel’s snoring. As soft and, well, sometimes almost cute as it was, she didn’t ever think she’d miss that.

Now she’s just left with the sound of her own thoughts and the occasional creaky floorboard from the apartment above.

It’s going to take some getting used to, but she really has no choice.

~

Three days after she moves in, Kurt calls round.

“Nice place,” he says, and Santana just rolls her eyes at him, because it’s _not_ , and she’s not in the mood to accept empty compliments on a place that’s main purpose is to protect her from the elements at night.

“What can I do for you?” She asks, motioning him through towards the pull-out couch that serves for both sitting and sleeping.

Kurt shrugs as he sits down. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“I’m fine. Obviously.” Only she’s not and they both know it.

“Okay, well, Rachel called me last night. Wanted to know if I knew why you suddenly decided you needed your own space.”

Santana stiffens and eyes him warily. They may be friends, but he’s still the biggest gossip she knows and she’s not sure how he’s managed to keep her pathetic state of feeling a secret for as long as he has. “And you said?”

Kurt sniffs and sticks his nose up a little. Santana kind of wants to slap him, but then he says, “That the inner workings of your mind were both a mystery to me and something I don’t ever want to spend too much time thinking about. So no, I didn’t have any idea.”

“Thank you.”

“Yes, well. She’s got enough on her plate already. I didn’t want to add to it.”

That’s not something Santana wants to dwell on, so she changes the subject, and soon Kurt’s fully involved in giving her tips on how to liven the place up—not that she’d ever consider taking decorating advice from someone who spends half their time looking like they got dressed in the dark.

~

She picks up more shifts at work. It’s something to keep her occupied, and really, the less time she can spend alone in her apartment, the better.

It means she misses the first time Rachel calls, because now her manager knows she’s moved out from Rachel’s, he’s a little less tolerant of her phone being on during her shift.

She listens to the voicemail on her way home.

 _Hey_ , _I just—I wanted to know how you were doing. We’ve not heard from you for a few days and, well. How’s the new place? Do you have everything you need? I know you left a lot of things here that were really yours—the good frying pan and, uh, you left your favourite mug and the NYADA sweater, which, I know it’s not yours, but it kind of is. Just—let me know if you want me to bring anything over, okay? Bye_.

There’s a few seconds of silence before the message cuts out, like Rachel wanted to say something else, but didn’t. Santana bites her lip, hard, and screws her eyes shut, because it shouldn’t feel so good to just hear Rachel’s voice. It shouldn’t, but it does, and the last thing she needs is to start crying on public transport.

She can’t return the call.

~

Rachel tries again a couple of days later.

Santana’s just gotten in from a twelve-hour shift. She’s barely conscious, and about to faceplant into bed, and so doesn’t even look at the display on her phone before answering. She’s not sure if she would have answered if she had.

“‘Lo,” she mumbles.

“Hmm, well at least I know first hand you’re still alive.” Rachel sounds both incredibly pissed off and relieved.

The sound of her voice makes Santana sits up straighter in bed and attempt to force herself into some form of alertness. “I am,” she says. “Though barely. I’ve just got in from work and was about to crash.”

“Well, I—” Rachel stops then and takes a breath, and Santana braces herself, because she’s pretty sure whatever’s coming next won’t be good. “You know, moving out doesn’t mean you just have to disappear completely, Santana. I—Lucas misses you, and...”

Well if that isn’t the lowest blow, made all the worse by the fact that it’s probably true. He’s nine months now and he recognises her, even recognises her name. But she’s not _anything_ to him, not in the long term, and surely it’s better that he grows up thinking of her as the sort-of-aunt who’s around occasionally, rather than the woman who brought him up for the first part of his life and then moved out when his mom wanted to live with someone else. Surely it’s better he suffers the loss now, when he’s too young to really remember? But still, she never intended to disappear completely.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’ll come over soon, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll let you get some rest, then. I just wanted to make sure you were really okay.”

“I am,” Santana says, and thinks she manages to make it sound like she means it.

“Good night, Santana.”

“Night. And... Tell Lucas I love him.”

There’s a long pause on the line before Rachel says, “I will,” and then the line goes dead.

Santana tosses her phone to the side and rolls over, burying herself under the sheets.

Even though she’s absolutely exhausted, it takes a long time for her to fall asleep.

~

It takes Santana another two weeks before she feels like she might be able to take seeing them both again without breaking down immediately.

Rachel’s called her a few times, and the conversations have been stilted and awkward, like Rachel knows perhaps she’s got something to do with Santana’s decision to move out, but doesn’t want to ask. And Santana’s too busy hating herself for the feeling she gets every time she hears Rachel’s voice to carry on any form of decent conversation.

~

She goes over on her day off. It’s weird walking up to the loft that was once her home. She knocks hesitantly on the door, then forces herself to take a deep breath while she waits for Rachel to open it. It’s been a month, and already she feels like she doesn’t belong here. But then Rachel swings the door open, and she looks so happy to see her that Santana can’t help but return the huge smile.

“Hey,” she says, and it feels so stupid, that that’s the only thing she can think to say, but just seeing Rachel again is pulling her in so many different directions that she can’t seem to even breathe properly.

“We’ve missed you, Santana.”

She doesn’t have anything to say to that that doesn’t involve crying and confessions that she doesn’t really want to voice, so she just follows Rachel inside, almost immediately spotting Lucas playing on the floor in front of the sofa.

She forces herself to sound happy as she says, “Hi, Lucas,” then has to close her eyes against the tears that are threatening anyway. When she opens them again, Lucas has pushed himself to standing, using the sofa to balance, and she lets out a noise of surprise when he starts to walk towards her, unsteady at first, but gaining confidence with each step.

And _God_ , it’s only been a month. It’s only been a month and she’s missed so much already.

She looks quickly at Rachel. “When did he—”

“A couple of days ago. He’s still not exactly stable, but he’s trying.”

Santana turns back, watching Lucas’s slow trek towards her. She bends down, holding out her arms for him to aim for. He walks into them, laughing happily as she picks him up and swings him around, before settling him on her hip.

“I’ve missed you,” she says, and he laughs again. She’s still not sure he understands, but when she kisses his cheek, he kisses hers back, and it’s enough. It’s got to be.


	4. Chapter 4

She’s still picking up as many extra shifts as she can at work, but now she keeps her Sundays free, because every week without fail, she gets up at the crack of dawn and makes the long trek over to Rachel’s apartment.

~

Sometimes when she visits, Santana wants to ask Rachel how she’s coping on her own. Like, now she’s not there, and Rachel’s doing this parenting thing all on her own, she somehow won’t be able to manage. It feels presumptuous, to assume she was so important in their lives that her absence left some sort of a hole a hole larger than that of a friend gone away. She obviously wasn’t.

And Rachel’s strong and determined, and even without Santana around to take a little of the strain that comes with parenthood, she would have coped from the start.

~

Every time when she visits, Rachel asks Santana how she’s coping on her own. Like, now they’re not there, Santana has lost all ability to function as an adult. Rachel doesn’t seem to care if it’s presumptuous, doesn’t seem to care about anything except making sure Santana’s eating enough, and not working too hard, and getting enough sleep.

It would be fine, if the concern on Rachel’s face didn’t make Santana fall just a little bit more in love with her every single time.

~

So, it’s still hard, even after two months of this new arrangement, to not see them both and remember what they had—what Santana thought they had. But this is better in the long run, she reminds herself, repeats it as a mantra each time she climbs the steps to Rachel’s apartment and knocks on the door.

~

She can feel Rachel watching her as she’s flicking through a picture book with Lucas. He’s starting to recognise some words, and when she says, “ball,” or “cat,” or “chair,” he can point to the correct picture nine times out of ten. They’ve been at it for a while now, though, and she can tell he’s getting tired, so she puts the book down and gives Rachel a pointed stare.

“I feel like we don’t ever really talk about anything anymore,” Rachel says. “Not that I don’t enjoy just your company, but...” She trails off and Santana closes her eyes briefly, because Rachel’s right, they haven’t had a real conversation since she moved out, but it’s difficult, when Santana’s keeping so much of what she’s thinking locked away.

“What do you want to talk about?”

Rachel looks hesitant for a second, then, “Why did you move out?”

Nothing like getting straight to the point. She’s surprised it took Rachel this long to bring it up. “I told you why.”

“You told me you needed space, and I assumed it was because you got tired of dealing with a baby who wasn’t yours, so I didn’t push, because it wasn’t ever fair on you that you got dragged into raising Lucas simply because you were there. But, Santana, you obviously care about him a great deal—”

“I love him,” Santana says, a little more loudly and forcefully than she intended. She takes a deliberate breath, willing herself to calm, because Lucas it still sitting on her lap and she doesn’t want to disturb him. “You know that.”

“So then why?”

The words are out before she can stop them, like her mind is so tired of holding everything in that it just lets go. “ _Because_ I love him,” she says. “Because he felt like he was _mine_ , Rachel, and I couldn’t—”

Rachel’s mouth opens, and whether it’s from shock or whether she’s going to start to speak, Santana doesn’t know. She gets up, holding a half-asleep Lucas to her chest. “I’m going to put him down for a nap,” she says, willing Rachel to just let her go. “It’s almost time, anyway.”

Thankfully, Rachel nods and Santana takes him quickly through to Rachel’s bedroom. He goes down easy enough, and Santana just takes a moment to breathe, because if she doesn’t, if she goes back through when she’s like this, every thought, every feeling she’s had in the past year is going to just come tumbling out of her mouth.

~

In the end, it comes out anyway.

~

When she walks back through to the living area, closing behind her the curtains that are still the only barrier to Rachel’s bedroom, Rachel’s moved to the couch, and she indicates with a slow movement of her hand that she wants Santana to join her.

“I didn’t know,” she says. “I thought—I don’t know what I thought, but, Santana, Lucas loves you just as much as you love him, and I wouldn’t ever want you out of his life.”

Santana’s whole body is tense as she sits on the edge of the sofa, she feels like if she relaxes it even just a little, she’ll lose control of everything. Her eyes meet Rachel’s briefly and she nods, not trusting that her voice will work properly if she tries to speak just yet.

“When you first moved out he was so restless, he cried every night for the first week and I didn’t know what was wrong with him, until I realised he was missing you. You became a parent to him, Santana. You still are.”

And God, the acknowledgement is more than she ever hoped for, but it’s still not enough, not when she wants her family back, which includes Lucas _and_ Rachel. Nothing’s going to feel okay until that happens, but she tells herself that if this is all Rachel’s offering, it’s _got_ to be enough.

“Okay,” she says, her voice wavering a little on the word, and then Rachel reaches out over the sofa to pull her into a hug.

It’s the first time they’ve touched in _months_ , and something just... breaks inside Santana. She tries to stop it, she really does, but the sob works its way out unbidden, then another and another, until her hands are clutching desperately against Rachel’s back and she’s crying in earnest.

“Hey,” Rachel says. “It’s okay.” She pulls back enough to reach up and swipe ineffectually at the tears streaking Santana’s cheeks.

“It’s not,” Santana half-chokes out between sobs. “It’s not. I can’t—Oh, God, I’m sorry.”

Her lips are on Rachel’s almost before the words leave her mouth. She hears Rachel let out a small noise of surprise, but it only registers vaguely in the back of Santana’s mind, because Rachel’s not stopping her, not pushing her away.

She’s kissing Santana back.

Santana does her damndest to pour into the kiss all the months of wanting, of thinking she didn’t stand a chance. Rachel whimpers against Santana’s mouth, and her hands, that were so gentle only moments ago, are now raking over Santana’s back, her arms, reaching up to twist into Santana’s hair.

Santana doesn’t want to stop, afraid that when they do, it’ll all be over, that this is just momentary madness on Rachel’s part. But they have to stop eventually, and they do, breathing heavily, and with Rachel’s fingers still threaded through Santana’s hair, keeping their faces close, like she’s the one afraid _Santana’s_ going to run away.

“How long?” Rachel says, her voice scratchy and barely loud enough for Santana to hear. “How long have you wanted to do that?”

Santana dips her head, but Rachel moves one hand along Santana’s jaw, pushing upwards until their eyes meet again.

“I don’t know. A long time. But I didn’t—until you started dating the jerk, I didn’t know.” And then she realises. _The jerk_.

Rachel must understand the look in Santana’s eyes, because she says, “We broke up weeks ago.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Rachel sighs, then bites her lip and looks at Santana for a long second. “I might as well tell you now, because we’ve obviously _both_ been idiots about this.” Santana laughs softly at that, because it’s becoming apparent that yes, they have. 

“I didn’t know what to do with myself when you moved out.” Rachel continues. “You were just _gone_ all of a sudden, and I missed you so, so much. I don’t know how you managed to just sneak in without me noticing, but you did. Then you left, and it—well, it made me realise how important you’d become in _both_ our lives.”

Santana swallows hard and blinks against the tears that are beginning to blur her vision again. There’s so much they should say, she thinks, questions that still need to be asked and answered, but there’s only one thing of any immediate importance. 

She cups Rachel’s cheek and presses their lips together, gently this time, with none of the urgency of before. When they part, she rests her forehead against Rachel’s and murmurs softly, “I’m not going anywhere anymore.”

~

It’s not how she ever pictured her life, but when Lucas wakes up an hour later, only to settle back between them on the sofa and fall asleep again, snuggled against her side, she realises she doesn’t care. They’re her family, and that her son came first, and then she got the girl, well, that’s just how things were meant to be.


End file.
